


To Be Alone

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternative Energy, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Coma, Dol Guldur, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Explanations, F/M, Fainting, Guilt, Healers, Healing, Helplessness, Injury Recovery, Kings & Queens, Lothlórien, Major Illness, Mother-Son Relationship, OTP Feels, Old Friends, Post-Battle, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Post-Movie(s), Reunions, Rings of Power, Road Trips, Self-Sacrifice, Soul Bond, Temperature Play, Tenderness, True Love's Kiss, Unconsciousness, Weak Galadriel, Worry, husband-wife relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galadriel comes back to Lothlórien severely weakened after draining her life force against Sauron. What is the reaction of her husband and her people?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Alone

Even as exhausted and in pain as she was, Galadriel could physically _feel_ the worry radiating from Elrond’s spirit. They traveled to Lothlórien by the swiftest horses but from time to time her son by marriage would halt them, dismount and reach for her hands, closing his eyes and murmuring familiar healing prayers, ones Galadriel had used herself on the suffering.

After the tenth or eleventh time of this, Galadriel saw him waver momentarily, his light sputtering just once, and she pulled her hand away, embracing his mind.

 _You are kind and you are a skilled healer, but this is a burden you cannot take upon yourself or you will surely Fade_.

Elrond’s eyes flickered to hers briefly, bright, but not with joy, as he whispered back to her mind: _What worse fate would have me if Celeborn were to lose his wife just as he lost his daughter?_

Galadriel swallowed, her throat unnaturally dry as she watched the brightness spill out of his eyes. He was ashamed of it and quickly swiped at his face and backed away, mounting his horse and leading them on. For most of the remaining journey Galadriel let herself drift into darkness, dreaming of past days when Sauron, Morgoth, and their like were all near-forgotten memories.

She returned to the conscious world when Elrond put a hand on her back. She straightened from where she’d leaned on the horse’s neck, trying to come into her home with some semblance of dignity. Nonetheless, she needed assistance from Elrond to dismount and it was hard to walk. Her muscles trembled violently underneath her dress but having her arm linked with her son-in-law’s helped somewhat.

Several Elves, though unsure of why it had taken so long for their Lady to return, bowed to her and she nodded in return even as she scanned each face, searching for her husband.

At last she found him when Elrond escorted her to one of the many symposium rooms, where Celeborn was greeting Círdan, of all Elves. Galadriel was glad to see him again after so long apart, but her glance at him was fleeting.

Celeborn was sitting regally in a chair facing away from her but rose abruptly yet fluidly when he sensed her presence, turning with a smile that was washed away as nothing by an expression of alarm.

“ _Tárinya!_ ” he said sharply in Quenya, striding toward her. Galadriel moved one hand from Elrond’s elbow and Celeborn clasped it between his own, a shadow creasing his face. Galadriel wondered just how much of her spirit she had lost to earn this reaction.

“ _Tárinya_ ,” he whispered again, looking to Elrond for explanation.

“She is weak,” Elrond stated unnecessarily. “We have stared into the face of Evil.”

Celeborn may not have known the extent of that statement, but he drew his wife into his arms, cradling her as her knees tried to fold. Galadriel felt him not only stabilizing her but running a warm hand down her back, testing her spine and her skin’s strength, feeling how much of what he knew had been changed so violently.

Círdan spoke surely as he came to root himself at Celeborn’s left shoulder. “Only through the power of the Wise, Eärendil’s star, and Nenya did she survive.”

It was unseen, but Galadriel felt Celeborn shudder around her.

“How do you know?” Elrond asked quietly, knowing better but asking anyway. Círdan cast soft, grave eyes on him and Elrond held them steadily, something passing between them that rekindled some of the strength in the Peredhel’s face and took his Ringed hand away into the folds of his cloak, protectively.

“Take this ring, Master… for your labours will be heavy; but it will support you in the weariness that you have taken upon yourself,” Círdan murmured. Vaguely Galadriel recognized it as what he had said to Gandalf as he’d blessed him with the third Ring of the Elves.

She didn’t think of it long, hiding her face in Celeborn’s robe as nothingness pressed in. It was heavy, as though the Dark Lord himself were trying to force her out of the world. Though she knew she had successfully banished him, there was still a chance he was. Perhaps there had been backlash of her power…All she knew for certain was that Celeborn had a strong hold on her and wouldn’t let her fall.

When she woke again, she felt more vigor than she had in days. It took her several moments to adjust to the unexpected buildup of energy. She was aware that her dress had been changed to sleep clothing and that she was prostrate, but beneath that she sensed her husband’s familiar aura. She turned her head, pursing her lips when she noticed Elrond slumped senselessly in the stiff corner chair. Then she looked more immediately to her left.

Celeborn was on his side facing her, arm supporting his head since he had sacrificed his pillow for her. A stirring of worry brought her even more alert when she saw his eyes closed; Elves didn’t _naturally_ sleep this way. Tentatively she turned over and reached for his shoulder; he reacted immediately to her touch, eyes flying open.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, obviously relieved as he shifted closer. “After two weeks…you’re awake.”

“As are you,” Galadriel returned, sweeping away the soft silvery hair hindering her and laying a hand against his face, testing how warm he was. “And unnaturally cool, husband.” Arching an eyebrow, she replaced herself on her back and nodded toward the corner chair’s occupant. “I suspect if I were to take his temperature, I would find the same?”

“I believe he felt he did not do enough in the battle. He told me of it and gave much for you,” Celeborn admitted.

“You did as well,” Galadriel reminded him, feeling a dull pain at the thought of her family diminishing themselves in order to carry her on.

“I didn’t disobey an order against it, as our son did,” Celeborn pointed out, quite literally reading her thoughts; she felt his infiltration into her mind and the comfort he was offering that she had yet to take. “Your burden is mine, to the best of my perception of it.”

Galadriel hesitated to tell him he was wrong, withdrawing her doubts further to a place where he would respect her privacy and resist probing them.

 _To be a Ring-bearer is to be alone_.

This painful idea had surfaced many times in her, but for now, with her soulmate across from her, holding nothing but love in his gaze, the White Lady refused to believe it. Again she turned on her side, combing her fingers through his hair and drawing him close for a kiss of reunion. Unseen by either of the Wise, through the silver of Celeborn’s hair, the silver of the Ring Nenya began to shine out clearer.

**Author's Note:**

> Tárinya: My queen


End file.
